Mirror Less Reflection
by Simetra Kain
Summary: It has been two years since the first T-Virus outbreak, and twenty-one year old Rebecca is lost in a bleak and broken world. But when a familiar memory springs to life...


**Disclaimer: The story belongs to me, but the characters and game belong to Capcom. I wish I owned them…it would've been awesome! If I owned this game series however, I would change a few things, from preventing Steve's tragic end, to the obvious "issue": Rebecca's departure with Billy.**

Enjoy reading! Hope you like it!

Inspired by Trapt – These Walls

Princess Io

* * *

**First: Forgotten Nostalgia**

Cold droplets of water tapped lightly against the roof and windows, as I paid no heed to them. It was a bleak Saturday evening, the loudest day of the week, considering it was the end of Happy Hour and the beginning of Night Glare.

Of course, I, who was once a rookie medic have now taken a new job as a bar waitress in order to prevent blowing cover. Now, to straighten things out, this method of work isn't exactly a "mission" per se. More like, a second job if you will, to be low-key and under the radar for the time being.

There I was, a young woman of nineteen who was once teamed up with a S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team two years ago and rearing to go on my first mission. But…those are just memories now, because I was currently a dispatch undercover.

I miss those days, being a fragile young girl with a strong sense of justice as well as the unique talent of using medicine in order to aid my comrades in battle when necessary. I was still delicate so to speak, just much older and more mature to be specific.

If I told that to people now, they wouldn't even know what a S.T.A.R.S. member was, or even the significance of it. They're long gone as far as I was informed, but I won't give it up, not until I get word of any important news. Anyway, my name's Rebecca Chambers, currently twenty-one and the events that I mentioned earlier, well they happened just two years ago.

I will admit though, I still won't forget my first mission, when I had to investigate a rundown train in the middle of Raccoon Forest. That was when…Oh never mind, it's frivolous, unimportant.

It was strange, as I gazed intently upon my moist hand that was soaking in the towel that I used to wipe up the remnants of spilled alcohol and melted ice cubes on the counter. I couldn't help but sigh deeply, as I took a quick glimpse at the distant weather, looking for something…

Suddenly, a warm hand griped my shoulder from behind. "Hey Rebecca, when you're finished there, I need you to go grab a couple more bottles of Scarlet Diamond and to toss out the old ice from the coolers. Be a doll and do that for me please?" It was my boss, Cornello, the owner of the Kat Korner.

I nodded; complying with his wishes and threw the rag in a nearby sink. I couldn't help but readjust my…work uniform. I was used to being dressed in more flexible clothing consisting of pants, a pack with medical supplies, at least two guns with packs of bullets and the like. Not…this.

Walking slowly down toward the back of the bar, I attempted shutting out the loud music the large stereos were blaring out with no restraints. The bar had been filled with many intoxicated guests, some of which I had to push and shove my way through all the while blocking my smelling sense from their breath that was filled with rich alcohol.

Thinking back at Cornello's conversation with me before I stopped wiping the counter, one word ran true and clear through my mind.

_Doll…_

That word alone…it was enough to make me think about someone I held close to my heart.

**Him.**

I remember the first time I was called that. Sure, I had nicknames such as 'kid' or 'squirt' while on the job after my first mission, but that one word seemed to stick better than the others.

--

Closing the door behind me, a stray idea sparked my mind. I had forgotten the dumpster was so much taller than I was, that I needed a stool just to throw the waste inside.

However, because I dazed off thinking about two years earlier, I was stupid enough to forget. Of all the friggin' times to forget the stool in the bar! It was drizzling; I was freezing because I barely had any clothes on…even WITH the light jacket I threw on for obvious reasons! Makes you want to say, "This night couldn't possibly get any worse."

Well, I apparently got just what I was hoping…if you can tell through my bitter sarcasm, it meant that I definitely wouldn't want to get what I was asking for at this very moment tonight. Sometimes I find myself thinking just why the hell I chose to work in a bar of all places in the first place.

Until I remembered that a bar is logically the best place for a S.T.A.R.S. member to hide in. It's a place of…cheap whore who strip for money, drug lords, depressed drunkards…and people just trying to make a living. Now, I'm not saying it's bad to work at a bar because of all these things that go on in one…just that, you wouldn't expect a prominent soldier of an anti-Umbrella movement to work there.

I couldn't help but sigh out of irritation and sadness. If only that T-Virus hadn't been created…or the death of Dr. Marcus…then I wouldn't be in the crazy mess at all!

_If only…_

_If only…_

_If **only**, I hadn't said goodbye…then I wouldn't be in this mess._

Then images of two years ago reappeared once more in my mind. They were painfully mesmerizing, and I only started up at the darkened sky of falling tears from above. It seemed a bit comforting in the least, but not as much as my memories of those precious two years that I still cherish.

I subconsciously put a hand toward the middle of my chest, and felt a strange bump underneath my worker's uniform. I pulled it out from under my shirt and stared at it intently. My eyes were so blinded by the rain; I couldn't recognize it for the first few minutes.

My knees buckled from underneath me, and I caught myself in time for myself to only get minor bruises instead of something more drastic. As I attempted to wipe off the rain from my soaking face, I opened my opposite hand that was holding the strange object wrapped around my neck.

It appeared to be attached to a simple chain of silver, though slightly dulled by aging. At the center, the part that I held in the palm of my hand, looked to be two flattened coins. However, these were too large in width to be just a regular nickel or dime. Instead, they looked to be something of identity, kind of like the ones that go on a bracelet…well, something like that.

As I peered closer to the two flattened…whatever they were, maybe slates. I read something on the surface that seemed to have been carved in the metal permanently. It was printed something from the military on the first slate, as well as a name of the soldier on the second one.

The letters spelled out something…something illiterate. Until I got a closer look.

By this time, the hard rain echoed so loud in the hollows of my ears, I couldn't think for a split second. And the streetlight from above scarcely provided enough light in order for me to clearly read out the name on the flat slate.

Blinking a few raindrops from my eyelashes, I peered even closer, if that was possible to do of course.

Each one of the single letters spelled out…something that was not striking any kind of chord in my memory. For I was hazed over by the stress of being alone in a place I barely lived in, not to mention I would probably die of frost bite or a cold from my extended exposure in the falling showers that rained mercilessly upon me without any regard whatsoever.

* * *

Finally, I read what had been written on them…

_Marine…_

_Lieutenant…_

_Billy…_

_Coen…_

**Billy Coen**. Just by the very syllables by that solitary name was enough to make me contemplate what to do with the newly acquired information.

Then a realization came over me.

"Billy…" I whispered, closing my eyes and clutching the dog tags in my palm, turning my knuckles a faint shade of off white. Not only had S.T.A.R.S. been scattered and presumed dead…but also I had no idea what had happened to Billy after those two years since the T-Virus outbreak.

Just thinking about him had made my mind go into cruise control. Everything that he had told me since the Train in Raccoon Forest had all come back from the deep confines of my mind.

"_Oh…I get it. You're with S.T.A.R.S."_

"_Well, no offense hunny…but you're kind doesn't seem to want me here. So, I'm afraid our little chat time is over…"_

Flashes of sights that I failed to remember earlier seemed to make sense again. It's like I was having unexpected flashes of my memory coming to life before my very eyes on this cold night.

"_Ok then Miss Do-it-yourself…"_

"_Hey, you okay?"_

"_Yeah, I'm just a zombie now huh?"_

"_Watch your step princess."_

"_I got you Rebecca!"_

"_I'm just keeping my word."_

_"No thanks doll face...I've already worn handcuffs."_

"_That was then, this is now. Besides, you said you wouldn't judge me."_

"_You don't get it…I either report to the Marines to serve my sentence, or keep running for as long as I can."_

"_Hey Queenie! Feast on this!"_

_"So...you seem to know me. Been fantasizing about me lately?"_

"_Thank you…Rebecca."_

I searched with wild abandon just where that voice was. It had to be somewhere, anywhere! I needed help, from someone, from him, Cornello!

**DON'T LEAVE ME BEHIND!**

_I should have stayed with him…_

_Or had him come with me to the mansion…then maybe he could've been a member of S.T.A.R.S. and would be on a clean slate. Turned a new leaf, something without me ever leaving his side._

And yet, out of duty, I leave him while I plunged into the depths of work. I had no time for my own personal matters…not even love. Now I'm screwed up because of it.

I guess it couldn't get any worse; I had finished ranting about the stool. I certainly did not desire to go through the front, looking soaked like I had gone for a swim in my work uniform for hours on end.

I would leave pride ever chance I got, but in this case I was influenced enough by it to stay put at my spot on the moist asphalt. It wouldn't matter anyway, I would just be remembered as a bar waitress who died alone under the depressing raindrops.

_No one would care…_

_Not even…_

_Billy…_

As I was about to welcome the obscurity-taking hostage of my consciousness, I hear a faint voice in my ears. My hearing became sensitive to listen closely to the owner the vibrating sound belonged to.

"Miss…are you alright?"

I opened my mouth to say something in response, but nothing came to mind. I just laid there, my back and body bruised from my collapse on the floor. There may have also been warm liquid leaking from somewhere; I could feel it with careful nerves near the back of my head.

After a few more minutes rolled by, my sight began to blur. A face was close to mine, still calling out to me. Not my name, but something that they would call a stranger such as myself by.

"Rebecca…?"

My eyes widened at the innate recognition of my own name.

"B…Billy?"

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A word from the author…

Thank you and I hope you enjoyed reading the first chapter of this series.


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